


Adorably Disastrous

by A Magiluna Stormwriter (ariestess)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Awkward Dates, Cooking, Curious Archer - Freeform, Date gone wrong, Dinner, Established Relationship, F/M, Mild Language, Swearing, shadow queen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 06:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17401412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariestess/pseuds/A%20Magiluna%20Stormwriter
Summary: "It's ruined," she whispers.  "I can't believe I fuckingruineddinner."





	Adorably Disastrous

**Author's Note:**

> Date Written: 29 April 2018 - 12 January 2019  
> Word Count: 3452  
> Written for: _notsoevilqueen  
> Prompt: This [ prompt ](https://twitter.com/_notsoevilqueen/status/990446448402612225)  
> Summary: "It's ruined," she whispers. "I can't believe I fucking _ruined_ dinner."  
> Spoilers: Canon divergent AU of S7 where Facilier doesn't die and the curse hasn't actually broken yet. Everything else we know about these characters is up for grabs.  
> Warnings: No standard warnings apply.  
> Website: ShatterStorm Productions – Doggie Duo  
> Link to: http://bdkk.shatterstorm.net/  
> Archive: ShatterStorm Productions & AO3 only…all others ask for permission & we'll see…  
> Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome.
> 
> Author’s Disclaimer: "Once Upon a Time," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Adam Horowitz, Edward Kitsis, Kitsis/Horowitz, and ABC Studios. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Once Upon a Time," ABC, or any representatives of the actors.
> 
> Author’s Notes: This story has had a very weird lifespan. I did really good to get it started, intended it to be equally ShadowQueen and CuriousArcher, but the latter kinda fell to the wayside by accident. Oops? That said, I would like to point out that Hyperion Heights, right down to the troll under the bridge, is based on the Fremont district in Seattle, so I've added in things that actually are here, like the [ PCC Market ](https://www.pccmarkets.com/stores/fremont/) in particular. Also, the soufflé Regina tries to make is the [Mushroom and Chèvre Soufflé](https://www.foodandwine.com/recipes/mushroom-and-chevre-souffles), paired with a lovely [2015 Sancerre Rosé](http://www.europeancellars.com/wine/sancerre-rose/). Facilier's wine is a [2015 Montesecondo IGT Sangiovese](https://vinepair.com/good-wine-reviews/montesecondo-igt-sangiovese-2015-tuscany-italy/). Yes, I did research the wines and the soufflé, thank you very much. LOL!
> 
> Dedication: My muses, as usual…
> 
> Beta: Jessa and Anam are awesomepants dipped in extra awesomesauce.

Regina stares into the open oven in horror. She feels hot all over, and not because of the heat pouring out of the oven or the man coming closer to her with each passing second of her silence. Mortification is strong as she stares at the fallen and burnt soufflé, tears burning in her eyes.

"Regina?"

"It's ruined," she whispers. "I can't believe I fucking _ruined_ dinner."

_~~ one hour earlier ~~_

"No, Margot, it's going to be fine."

"Are you sure, Aunt Roni? I've never done this before."

Regina chuckles and checks on the egg whites. "You're going to be fine, sweetheart. You grew up making lasagna with me. You can do this in your sleep."

"But what if she doesn't like it?" Her niece's doubts come in clearly over the speaker. "I know how _you_ like it, and Mom, too. You taught me."

"I did teach you and I know you can make this dish in your sleep." She smiles, reiterating her point, and starts to fold the egg whites into the base of her mushroom and chevre soufflé. "You're just nervous because you're making it in a new oven for the first time for your girlfriend. Tilly loved it when I made it a couple weeks ago, and she'll love it when you make it for her. In fact, she'll probably love it even more because _you_ made it."

There's a moment of silence, followed by a soft, giggling sigh. "You think so?"

"I know so, Margot. Just relax and trust your instincts. You've got this, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks, Aunt Roni." She clears her throat, then continues, "So how's your date going? I didn't interrupt anything, did I?"

"Just putting the soufflé together now. That's why you're on speaker. And no, he's not here yet. The wine's chilling and will need to come out about fifteen minutes before the soufflé finishes cooking. And I have a lovely fresh fruit tart that I got at PCC Market this afternoon."

"You didn't make it yourself?"

Regina grins. "I might have if my favorite assistant hadn't decided to play hooky from inventory to spend the day with her girlfriend." At the first sounds of protest, she chuckles. "It's all right, dear. I remember the flush of young love very well. Make every moment with Tilly matter, okay? Don't sweat the small stuff and follow your heart."

"I will. I love her so much."

"I know you do. Now get back to your lasagna. You can tell me all about it tomorrow when you come home."

"Okay. Thanks again, Aunt Roni. Love you!"

"I love you, too. Say hi to Tilly for me."

The call ends and Regina spoons the mix into the large soufflé dish before carefully setting it in the oven to bake. She sets the timer before casually doing the dishes and cleaning up the kitchen. She keeps checking her phone for messages from Baron, even though she knows he's not due to arrive just yet, so she has a few minutes. She checks the place settings on the table, verifying again that everything is perfect. She's not even sure why she's so damned nervous about this meal. It's Baron, _Facilier_ , for gods' sake, and she's been involved with him before.

_But you've never been alone with him here,_ she thinks to herself. _You've always been at his place or somewhere public._

Before she can talk herself out of calling him and cancelling this date, there's a knock at the door. It's enough to startle her from her thoughts and she glances at her phone to see she's still got fifteen minutes left on the soufflé yet. She needs to get the rosé out to breath, but years of her mother's decorum dictate that she should answer the door first. Licking her lips, she slips her phone back into her pocket and makes her way to the door to see the man himself standing there. Her eyes travel from that smooth scalp that pebbles up with goosebumps when she runs her nails over it, down to mischievously twinkling eyes she could lose herself in, and a broad, knowing smile that makes her stomach erupt into a flurry of tiny wings. Sometimes she hates just how off-kilter he can make her with a simple look. 

But only sometimes…

"Cat got your tongue, my queen?" he asks with a chuckle, voice pitched in the lower register that drives her wild. "Or weren't you going to invite me in?"

She can feel the flush of embarrassment heating her cheeks as she takes a step back to let him come inside. The patchouli and lavender oil blend he wears as cologne wafts to her nose, and she feels her nipples tighten in response at the undertones of peppers and brimstone. _Fuck!_ She suddenly wants nothing more than to have him back her up against the door she's closing and fuck her senseless, dinner be damned. When she turns around, he's right there in her personal space, a hand cupping her cheek as his lips move gently over hers. It's a sweet, simple meeting of mouths and breaths, the cool, sharp bite of the mint leaves he obviously chewed before knocking lingering on his breath. She wants desperately to taste it on his tongue, but he pulls back too soon to look at her.

"Hello, Regina," he says, hand still on her cheek as he shifts to set the bottle of wine in his other hand on the side table. "We wouldn't want that to get broken in our enthusiasm to greet each other in our favorite way, would we?"

She shakes her head and shifts her face slightly to press her lips to his palm, eyes still on his. Watching him lick his lips in reaction pushes her to do the same, the tip of her tongue teasing against his skin. He tastes of salt and mint, and that hint of brimstone is there again. Perhaps that's just a natural flavor of his, rather than the cologne he wears. Perhaps she'll have to pay better attention the next time they're in bed together. That brings about a soft chuckle. When Baron has her in bed, she rarely can focus on anything but their pleasure.

"What's so funny?"

Instead of answering, she shrugs and turns her head, rising up on her toes to brush her lips against his. She knows she should get the rosé out to breathe, but she would much rather spend a little longer where she is. It won't _ruin_ the wine or the meal if it doesn't breathe. This time, Baron's lips part to accept her questing tongue, and that sharp bite of the mint leaves hits her tongue, sending a shiver down her spine. Her soft moan elicits a similar response from her lover. If she didn’t know any better, she’d think that Baron’s response was planned to get a visceral reaction from her, if the sudden rush of slickness between her thighs is any indication. She loves him, in her own way, and knows that the feelings are reciprocated to some extent. She hasn’t felt the same overwhelming rush of affection for him that she did for Robin, but Baron and Robin have always been two entirely different men, each worthy of love in his own right.

“You’re thinking too loudly, my queen,” Baron murmurs against her lips, and she feels her cheeks flush with embarrassment. "What's running around in that brain of yours that distracts you so?"

Regina shakes her head, unwilling to have this conversation just now. Or ever, if she's honest. It's not something she wants to deal with. She knows he'll understand, but that is _not_ what tonight is about. "It's-- I won't say that it's nothing, because it's not, but I'm not up for discussing it tonight."

He gives her an understanding smile, caressing her cheek. "As you wish, Regina, but you know you can tell me anything. We have an understanding, you and I, and a level of respect that I relish." She leans into his touch, eyes fluttering shut as she lets out a deep breath and nods. "That's what I like to see." He leans in again to kiss her, lips moving languidly against hers until she lets out a soft sound and relaxes further.

She lets him walk her backwards to rest against the door as he deepens the kiss, tongue teasing hers with that minty bite until she grows impatient to taste it again and again. Her nails drag over the back of his neck and the base of his skull, the hint of a smirk appearing as she feels the goose bumps pop up in their wake. The faint shiver rippling down his back emboldens her and she bites down on his bottom lip, tugging gently. His resulting growl sends a jolt of desire racing down her spine to explode low in her belly. 

They continue to trade kisses, some hungry, some gentle, some teasing. Time has no meaning when she's kissing Baron, body reacting and overtaking her mind's ability to overthink things. Kissing is good. Kissing is a precursor to so much more, and she's more than ready to strip down and press against him in all the most delicious ways possible, skin to skin. When his lips make their slow, teasing way along her jaw and down the column of her throat, all she can do is tilt her head to the side and moan at just how good it all feels. Her hands clutch spastically at his shoulders, whether for balance or to encourage him, she's not entirely sure.

As he nibbles his way along her collarbone, she takes the opportunity to press her lips to his scalp. The scent of brimstone is suddenly stronger, making her cunt clench abruptly in desire, the crotch of her thong now entirely soaked.

"What's that smell?" he asks, voice rough. She feels her cheeks darken in a mix of embarrassment and arousal at the thought of him being able to _smell_ how turned on she is right now. "Regina? Is something burning?"

The words are no more than out of his mouth, and she registers the stench of burnt…

" _Fuck!_ " 

She races to the kitchen, flicking on the exhaust fan in an attempt to stave off the smoke alarm. Her next move is to turn off the oven itself, but she doesn't open the door for a moment or two. It's not like she has anything to salvage at this point.

When she's certain the smoke alarm isn't going to go off, she tugs the oven door open. A small cloud of black smoke comes out, but somehow the smoke alarm stays silent. She knows she's got a powerful exhaust fan, but still… And then the cold breeze hits her. Of course. A quick glance to her right confirms that Baron opened the main door to help air out the loft and is now making his way over to her.

Regina stares into the open oven in horror. She feels hot all over, and not because of the heat pouring out of the oven or the man coming closer to her with each passing second of her silence. Mortification is strong as she stares at the fallen and burnt soufflé, tears burning in her eyes.

"Regina?"

"It's ruined," she whispers. "I can't believe I fucking _ruined_ dinner."

"No, my queen, you didn't ruin dinner."

Now she looks up at him. "You're kidding, right? _How_ can you say this isn't ruined?"

His smirk and shrug would normally turn her on, but right now it just highlights how badly she's fucked up this entire evening. "You burned the soufflé because we were having a rather intense make out session. I distracted you every bit as much as you distracted me. So no, _you_ didn't ruin dinner, Regina, _we_ did."

"But--"

His finger against her lips cuts off anything else she might want to say.

"And if I know you like I prefer to believe I do, you have the ingredients for something else that will be every bit as delicious as this soufflé would have been. Am I right?" His eyebrow quirks up as he stares at her until she nods. "Then if there are ingredients for something else _we_ can make for dinner, you can't possibly have ruined the meal."

She tries to laugh at the brilliance of his argument, but all that comes out is a wet sob. Without hesitation, Baron pulls her into his arms, holding her close as she cries. He murmurs soft words of encouragement between kisses pressed to her hair, one hand rubbing up and down her back soothingly. She isn't sure how long they stand like that, but it's a bone-deep shiver that finally pulls her away from his comforting embrace.

"Let me get the door," he says with a smile. "But first, why don't you try to salvage that soufflé dish and I'll run the trash out to the dumpster?"

"A-All right," she says, clearing her throat against the lump lodged there still. Turning, she grabs hot pads to remove the pan from the oven and close the door. Another moment or so is spent scraping out the worst of the burnt food into the trash before she sets the dish on the counter to cool before she can even think of letting it soak.

"Now, Regina, what can we make for dinner that will make you feel better about all of this?"

She considers the ingredients on hand as he ties off the trash bag and lifts it from the can. "How about I make you some spaghetti?" she asks with a small smile. "I have all of the ingredients here, and it shouldn't take too long to cook up."

He pauses to consider this, then grins and leans in to murmur hotly in her ear, "Why don't you make me that famous lasagna of yours? I keep hearing about it, but I've never had the pleasure of sampling it fresh and hot before."

Despite the turn of events that got them to this point, Regina feels another flood of arousal at his deep, sensual tone. "Okay," she finally whispers. "I can do that."

"Good. Get everything out, so I can help you when I get back from taking this out." He lifts the bag and, when she nods, he repeats the motion before heading outside.

She scrubs a hand over her face, letting out a low growl of frustration, then turns to pull out ingredients from the pantry and the fridge. The sight of the bottle of rosé in the fridge makes her sigh, but she knows it won't pair well with this menu change. Shaking her head, she leaves it alone and starts to brown some ground sirloin in a frying pan, adding in onion flakes and a healthy sprinkling of Worcestershire sauce. Letting it start to cook, she gets a pot of water boiling for the noodles.

Baron comes back in and closes the door, bringing the bottle of wine from the side table with him. "I didn't know what you were planning to make, but I thought this 2015 Montesecondo IGT Sangiovese would work well with pretty much anything you might make."

Her eyebrow rises at the name, a smile curling up her lips. "It will go quite well with lasagna. Do you want to open it now and we can have some while we prep? Or would you rather have the Sancerre now and save this for dinner and afterward?"

"Would you like the save the Sancerre for another night?" When she shrugs, still upset about the ruined soufflé, he chuckles. "Why don't we have some now while we cook and see if it lives up to its reputation, hmm?"

"That's fine." 

Regina turns to stir the meat, still internally berating herself over the soufflé. She can hear him opening the bottle, briefly wonders how he knows where she keeps her corkscrew and glasses. But this is Baron, and she's nothing if not predictable in certain areas of her life. She stiffens slightly when he comes up behind her, setting her wine glass on the counter to her left, his right hand resting lightly on her hip.

"You're thinking too loud again, Regina," he murmurs, lips brushing against the shell of her ear. "Let it go and just enjoy the night, enjoy _us_."

"I know…"

"So what can I do to help?" She can feel the smirk curling up his lips with his next words. "Or are you going to force me to watch the master potion maker in her domain?"

She chuckles and shakes her head, leaning back against him briefly. "Can you chop the onion and garlic for me? I need to get the noodles in the water to parboil and then doctor up the sauce."

"You don't make it from scratch?"

"I did that last fall when I harvested the veg involved. But I still like to taste it and adjust with each application." She grins at him. "Maybe I'll even let you know my secret ingredient before you've tasted it."

"Oh my, I am being spoiled tonight." He kisses her ear, squeezing her hip before stepping back to start the task requested of him. They fall into a companionable silence, and Regina takes solace in the easy way they have of working together. She misses this kind of rapport, is grateful to have it with him.

"All right," she finally says. "The noodles and meat are currently draining, so it's time to make the lasagna."

"I am yours to command, my queen." The twinkle in his eye reminds her of just one of the reasons she fell for him, both in the past and more recently.

"You are an unmitigated flirt, Baron Samedi."

"Funny, you don't sound disappointed by that."

"Who said I was disappointed by it?" She winks, easily joining on his laughter or a moment. "Now, this is what we need to do…"

By the time the lasagna's in the oven, this time using the stove's timer instead of her phone, they've nearly polished off the Sancerre, both agreeing that they'll get more for their collections. Baron tops up their glasses with the last of it before they retire to the sofa. Without thought, Regina curls her legs up under her and settles her head on his shoulder.

"You didn't show me your secret ingredient," he says softly. "Should I be offended?"

"Not at all. There aren't many people who know it. My niece knows, of course, as she's making it for her girlfriend tonight. I've a feeling you'll figure it out relatively easily when you taste it, which is why I chose not to reveal it beforehand." She smirks at him. "I know how you like playing the game."

He nods and shrugs his shoulders. "Guilty as charged. And once we've had dinner, I have another game I hope to play with you. Or is it better to say that I'd like to finish the one we started when I first got here?"

"I think that is a fabulous idea." She licks her lips. "And maybe you can stay the night tonight? My niece won't be home until tomorrow at some point, and Zelena's… Well, I don't know where she is, but tomorrow's her day to run the bar, so we could spend a lazy morning in bed?"

"I was hoping you'd ask, but didn't want to presume."

She smiles and cups his cheek, lips lightly brushing against his. "Why would it be presuming? I've spent the night at your place practically every time…" She wrinkles her nose. "That sounds wrong somehow, but I'm not sure how, nor do I regret any of it."

"I know, but this is your home, your sanctuary. I didn't want to assume that you'd--"

She cuts him off with a kiss, slow, gentle, but filled with intent. A soft moan is heard, but she isn't sure which of them makes the noise, nor does she actually care. 

And maybe Baron's right after all. The night most certainly isn't ruined… The thought makes her chuckle, breaking the moment as he leans back to study her quizzically. When she explains her reaction, he smiles and cups her cheek again.

"In my eyes, the night was never ruined, Regina," he says softly, a look in his eyes that startles her and steals her breath away. "It was perfect simply because you were here. Everything else was a bonus."

She kisses him again before he can say anything else, wanting to hide the tears suddenly welling in her eyes at the sincerity in his words.

A perfect night, indeed.


End file.
